Twelve Times
by tearsofphoenix
Summary: Time after time, twelve times, twelve meetings, until they came to really see each other. EWE. SS/HG


**TWELVE TIMES**

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies – it's all JKR's

_Many, many thanks for all the help to Whitehound, who edited this new story with her unique care and to Lady Memory who kindly previewed it._

0.

He had barely remembered her presence during the last moment of what he, now, called his previous life. All his efforts, his attention then, had been solely, utterly, focused on those green eyes, in the extreme attempt to fulfil his mission and his atonement.

She, on the contrary, would never forget the last time in which she saw him. That sight had been the greatest display of horror she'd ever seen; such agony would forever annihilate all the other ones, green-lighted and lacking in bloodshed as they had been.

It wasn't a memory that haunted her, as other nightmares did – after all he hadn't been as significant to her as the many friends that she had lost in the war - but to forget it was impossible, nevertheless.

I.

The first time in which he saw her again, he only just noticed her. She was amongst other people, joyously gathered together, and that scene had made him retreat behind the door of the nearest shop.

He was eager to avoid contacts as much as possible during his trips to Diagon Alley, which he had visited just out of necessity that day. In the flurry and racket he identified the well-known features of that ex student of his, but nevertheless he didn't stop to have a further look, careful not to draw attention nor to renew acquaintances.

That day, when she too saw him again for the first time, she didn't come forward to greet him, nor did she show emotion at seeing him alive. Mesmerized at such an unexpected sight, she simply stared, thinking: "It's true, then… he survived".

She seemed unable to react more than with that banality and quickly, in the crowded alley, the throng of people hindered any further sight of him.

II.

The second time in which they met, Hermione managed to speak, even if her words were nothing more than a simple greeting, after a sudden pause which happened while they were both walking in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

Snape merely nodded, thus succeeding in being even curter than she was, but then he too, after a few further steps, halted. And, for a few instants, he watched her going away.

III.

"Third time is the charm", they say, but perhaps theirs was the exception that proves the rule.

"Tell everyone whatever you want, Ronald! I can't go on like this!" she was hissing, looking at her boyfriend angrily. "And this time it will take much more than the Deluminator to see me again!"

The pleading eyes of the redheaded boy followed her steps when she left the bar, and she caught just a vague glimpse of Snape, while scurrying away.

Sitting in a not very distant corner of the place and sipping his drink, he couldn't avoid witnessing that exchange, and bitter thoughts about Gryffindor women's unforgiving attitude unexpectedly saddened him.

IV.

The fourth time he heard her coming, even though he could not yet see her. That time he was among the people gathered in the hall for the first annual victory celebration – an occasion in respect of which neither of them had been in a position to decline the invitation – when he heard her name muttered, hissed, repeated… it was the rumour of the day.

Through the unavoidable incessant gossip he learnt quite a lot about recent events in her life. And finding himself, unexpectedly, the recipient of such overabundant knowledge, he couldn't help but trust that something had to be real, among the obvious exaggerations.

Her chin lift as in challenge, concealing almost completely the real turmoil that was burning inside her chest, she was proceeding through the crowd. She felt his eyes on her and suddenly met his gaze. She didn't know what strange impulse had moved her, or what she had expected to see in that look, but the cold stare that he reserved for her, that night, hurt her more than she had expected.

For just a moment her shield seemed to crumble and, then and only then, the fear of being forever rejected like that showed on her saddened face. Without averting her eyes from his she went on, and this time she didn't bother to greet him.

V.

Nearly a year later they met for the fifth time.

Since neither of them had known the identity of the other person their respective superiors had assigned to deal with the project at hand, the moment he entered her office a surprised silence fell. He handed her a folder containing the documents her office had requested and waited for her examination of its content. In doing so, standing in front of her, he took his time to observe the witch.

Undoubtedly she was no longer the mere girl he remembered from their school days, he noticed, realizing how that memory had probably always prevented him from taking a detached view of her when they had previously run across each other.

Whatever had motivated her changes and her choices, it had cost the witch her youthful candour, he saw, and he had to suppress a feeling of empathy for those darkened eyes, for her stiff posture, for her severe choice of dresses…

She lifted her eyes from what she had just read. Then, with a cold though polite tone which made it easier for him to forget his temporary inclination, she announced, "It will take a while to check all this, I think. Perhaps you would prefer to come back another day to hear our proposal for a possible solution?"

"I'm quite surprised to see that you aren't volunteering one of your spur-of-the-moment responses," he found himself answering. "But, of course, if you really need time to come up with an opinion, who am I to deny you such a pause for reflection?"

She stood up, her eyes blazing. But, before she could retort with the rebuke his words were calling for, he went on, raising a hand in a mocking gesture.

"I have to insist, however. If those data weren't confidential, they'd have been owled, as even you could easily have guessed… and my presence here today wouldn't have been necessary. I'm afraid that we'll have to sort out this matter here and now, no matter how much time is required".

"I will not comment on such an evident lack of trust, about which both my office and myself could easily take offence… since I'm sure that your employers would be disappointed to know that the situation has been worsened by their poor choice of an emissary… So, please, make yourself at home and let me work, and then we'll see," Hermione purred, gesturing for him to take a chair next to her desk.

Raising an eyebrow Snape reassessed his priorities, having realised how they had been disarranged by the unexpected sight of her in that office. So he resigned himself to a long day of endurance, allowing himself just the little satisfaction of the last word.

"Very well, then. I'm going to send an owl for further instructions while you are taking your time."

His subsequent sudden exit, his robes dramatically billowing after him as in the old days, denied her any other further reply.

VI.

Their instructions, as it turned out, were to have a further meeting before going on with the contract. It had to be held at the temporary head-office of the company as soon as possible, whenever it was convenient for her: now that they knew who the officer they'd have to deal with was, they would be honoured, in fact, to have the chance to speak to her personally.

After that proposal and before dismissing him, Hermione Granger had asked Snape a last question, though.

"These papers don't mention the names of those on whom the potion has already been tested; the results that they show are anonymous… Can you enlighten me on that, before leaving? "

"I'd prefer our host to answer that, if you don't mind," he had answered.

Albeit that she was a bit disconcerted to see that someone like Andromeda Black, whose signature attested to her ownership of the whole business, could have such influence on Snape, something in the man's tone convinced Hermione that there could well be a good reason behind his request.

So it happened that the following day was the sixth time in which they faced each other. They met near the Ministry entry, and he side-along Apparated both.

Landing at Malfoy Manor, and realizing who the real owner of the Company had to be, the witch stiffened in front of the gates, refusing Snape's help to steady herself.

"Wait," he said quickly, seeing her accusing gaze. "It isn't as it might seem… Don't be too hasty to jump to the most obvious conclusion."

The timely arrival of Narcissa Malfoy herself, coming to welcome them, left no more room for arguments.

She lead her guests through a room whose walls were heavily decorated in a dark purple colour that Hermione remembered all too well. Through a short corridor, Narcissa Malfoy walked them into the next, smaller chamber and there they sat around a crystal table, set with delicious dishes and drinks.

After a few minutes, Draco joined them and, as a first step, he proposed a toast to their enterprise and to success, given that they were all gathered there. He looked very different from the arrogant boy that Hermione remembered, until his slight smirk, when he clicked his glass with Hermione's, reminded her of his old self.

Snape didn't miss the exchange nor the change in the woman's posture, even stiffer, if possible, than before.

Nor did he miss the fact that she wasn't at all chatty, nor did she dispense advice as usual. Then Narcissa asked the younger witch to accompany her for just a few moments to the greenhouse, to show her the plants from which the main components of the new potion were extracted.

Noticing the flinch that the young woman hadn't been able to suppress when the elder witch touched her arm in invitation, Severus Snape became even more aware that something relevant had been omitted during the short and anxious exchange that he had had with Narcissa the night before, when he had finally, very late, returned from the Ministry.

Draco's chatter during the women's short absence answered only a few of the many questions stirred by that suddenly intrigued new awareness, then, but that short talk was at least a start.

VII.

So, the seventh time, when Snape visited her again in her office to check her progress in respect of the licence, he felt that his interest in her was increasing, as well as his doubts about some of his former assumptions regarding her.

She of course didn't notice such a change in his attitude because, this time, she was forewarned and determined to have her own way during the meeting.

"I understand that it was a very unfortunate situation for your employers that, of all people, it should turn out to be me that was the person whom they'd have to relate to in order to conclude this agreement," she started. Then, leaving him no time to reply, she went on with cold determination.

"But you, at least, you should have known better about my capacity to not be biased in a situation like this… Anyway, I have been informed by Mrs. Malfoy about the painful events that led to the invention of this potion, a remedy useful in fighting apathy by heartening one's will and strength … and, of course, it will be very important to all those who still suffer the consequences of the last war."

Acknowledging the importance of her opening, Snape repressed the sudden memory of all the times in which she, like other members of her House, had reacted with prejudice against him and against his House, and didn't argue with her words about an assumed trust on his part that she seemed to pretend to take for granted.

"I owe you an apology," he offered instead, "but, you see, my associates… my friends wanted to be sure that knowing who they are wouldn't constitute a problem for you."

"And, of course, old habits of secretiveness die hard,"she bitterly cut him off.

"Well, save your breath and your words of regret," she continued "I'll do my best, but not for you, and nor for your friends' sake. This is a very helpful potion, and our world will benefit from its availability. Shall we adjourn for the last formalities and the signing of the contract, then?"

Seeing the truth behind her words, Snape nodded, and once more he didn't feel any wish to retort; so they agreed on a date, in the presence of the Minister himself and of the Malfoys.

In spite of the harsh way in which she had addressed him, Snape silently acknowledged her competence and appreciated her commitment: perhaps it wasn't impossible for a Gryffindor woman to show some capacity for forgiveness, after all.

VIII.

When the contract was eventually signed, some celebration seemed to be in order. The little crowd gathered for the occasion indulged in toasts and congratulations, and almost everyone seemed very happy at the successful outcome.

Almost.

In a corner, as if hiding, she was staring around, showing a blank look. Seeing such a detached attitude in the young witch whose swift and caring work had brought them all to that momentous day, Snape felt the sudden impulse to reach out to her.

"Considering what happened during your previous visit there, your behaviour at the Manor was very brave", he whispered. "Even for a true Gryffindor, as you definitely are".

Slightly startled, and yet understanding which "previous visit" he was referring to, Hermione looked at him coldly rather than beaming at his praise. "I had no choice in the matter," she replied, "neither on that occasion nor the subsequent one," stressing the last words so that he, too, couldn't misunderstand what she was recalling to him.

"I didn't know about it, that day," he admitted. "I didn't know a lot of things, it seems".

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Apology accepted," she ended, pursing her lips in a tight smile. Then, seeing that he didn't move, she sighed.

"It was… instructive to hear about Mrs. Malfoy's suffering during the war and in the aftermath of it directly in her own words… and I can see how such a situation convinced Tonk's mother to put aside their past and help her sister. I would have never dreamt that one day I'd feel sorry for her, for all of them… nor I would have expected the kind way in which she welcomed the infamous Mudblood," she ended bitterly.

"Don't say that word!" he nearly cried. Then, coming nearer and whispering again, he went on.

"Yes, Narcissa showed great intuition when she requested a meeting with you… it eased her worries while inspiring a different, unexpected curiosity, though."

Amused, now, she looked at him, arching an eyebrow. Was this some new tactic to improve the terms of the accord which they had reached, in spite of the fact that it had already been drawn up? Or what?

"It would be… refreshing, I think, to know more than the common gossip about the people we are dealing with," he risked again, emboldened.

A tiny sparkle eventually enlivened her gaze, and, in the space of a breath, they had a date.

IX.

She still couldn't fathom the real reasons for or the likely outcome of their imminent conversation when the planned meeting, their ninth, occurred.

Thus, as soon as they met she started by asking, "You said that it would be good to know more about each other. Assuming that you didn't just intend to quiz me to fill the gaps in your own knowledge, would some curiosity be allowable from my side too?"

"Of course it would… it is. So, the first round of questions is yours, I suppose," he politely answered.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, when everything had finally begun to return to normality, she hadn't paid too much attention to the tales circulating about his extraordinary rescue. She had been enjoying her youth, for a change, though later she had regretted the foolish choices that such a light-hearted time had brought into her life.

But, looking now at her former Professor and remembering once again the horrible moment in the Shack in which she and her friends still didn't know anything of his real story and of his long suffering, she felt the sudden wish to know more, and to hear from him the true details of what had happened.

"The Malfoys were the first to spare a thought for me" he started, and Hermione felt relieved at seeing that he didn't seem annoyed by her choice of topic.

She couldn't know that, nearly secluded as he had been up to then, Snape hadn't told many people about those events yet: nor how significant this innovation seemed to him, as a means of clarifying the truth of her apparent concern, and of his own awareness of her.

So he continued, explaining how his rescue had been possible.

The fading of the Vow taken by Narcissa and Severus on Draco's behalf had somehow been perceived by the woman and by her son right at the moment in which Snape's life had been coming to an end.

It had been as if they had sensed an impending menace as a protection which had been granted to the boy was withdrawn. Moreover, Lucius had been one of the few people who knew where the Dark Lord had summoned his comrade.

Once the battle had been over, finally together again, murmuring comforting words to each other, Snape's name and destiny had come up in their conversation, or so he had been told.

"I still don't know what made them hurry to the place where I was in my death-agonies. Yes," he emphasized, forestalling her protest and her self-recrimination about the way in which she and her friends had left him there, so certain of his end. "Clearly I wasn't dead. And yes, I know how my body appeared to show evidence to the contrary."

"Even if I was unaware of Dumbledore's complete plans," he continued, "I knew that I had to survive in order to help Potter. Albus's reiterated warnings about the importance of the snake induced me to counteract its venom by dosing myself with an antidote for nearly a year before that day."

Hermione was listening, fascinated by his tale, and so absorbed in the events he was recalling that she didn't notice, at first, the change in his expression.

"I didn't do it in the hope of surviving, though. I was prepared to die. I _wanted_ to die.

"So, when I found myself in my friends' care, I didn't feel any joy or relief at being still alive, not at all. I felt at a loss, overwhelmed… and then I felt even more unsettled when I considered that my saviours were the Malfoys, who had never really been true friends before then, not in my youth and not in those final years when all of us were so full of mutual suspicions and fears."

He paused, as if he wanted to be sure that she had understood.

"Well, as soon as my physical wounds began to heal, I could see how much the year spent under the constant threat of the Dark Lord's wrath had exacted its toll on them, too. They simply were no longer the selfish, pompous aristocrats that I had always known. And after that, I realized that I couldn't just surrender to my own feeling of nothingness, because I wasn't the only one who was so burdened; and Lucius's trial and imprisonment only made things worse for them. It was for that reason that I began - with some help from Draco, whose youth perhaps made him more resilient - to search for helpful new potions, or ways of improving those that already existed," he eventually concluded.

Hearing such confidences she felt touched by his trust, and she realized that this encounter couldn't be attributed to other much more dubious reasons, such as she had conjectured earlier.

She remembered Harry's revelations about him, and Narcissa's confidences, and understood that, perhaps for the first time, she was really seeing him, Severus Snape, and not the misleading façade of one of his deceptive roles.

And, yet, knowing the innate reserve of the man, she was at loss for possible explanations for such a disclosure… his voice had been calm, in spite of the horrible events he had described, and everything in his demeanour was very different from the cold, powerful and frequently malicious attitude that she remembered so well from her school days.

She was wondering… Had he, too, been helped by the potion of which he had just now told her the genesis? Was such a change due to some lasting after-effects of the potion itself? But then she remembered what the documents attested about its temporary and non-addictive qualities, and mentally shook her head.

As if perceiving her bemusement, however, Snape continued.

"Having a task worth making a commitment to gave me a reason to go on. And I didn't need the potion to do it... not that potion, anyway".

She looked at him, suddenly aware of his appearance. During all the previous occasions in which they'd met, he had pretty much presented himself as imposing and self-controlled, and his appearance had supported that impression.

Now, conversely, it wasn't just his confidences that were being revealed in front of her.

His voice, slightly hoarsened in emphasising those last words, the collar of his shirt, loosened earlier by his own irritated gesture, the lingering gauntness of his cheeks… everything spoke of a pain that probably hadn't completely ended, yet.

"You should have told me something of all this when we met, you know, the first time you entered my office," she impulsively commented. Then, smiling softly, she corrected herself.

"No, of course you couldn't have… It was silly of me to say so. What has happened since then though, to let you trust me enough to take me into your confidence?"

His next words didn't seem like a proper reply to her query; they were rather an accurate summary of the various stages of his perception of her, but in a way they seemed an explanation of sorts for some past events they had both lived through.

"You obviously know how insufferable I found your incessant chatter, other people's best intentions… and whoever prying into my privacy… A cold response to intrusions and unwanted approaches has always been my armour, and I couldn't have gone on without it. Then I sensed the same kind of defensive attitude coming from you, and I felt interested… until it seemed to be even more than just a bad reflection of my old self, unforgiving and cold to the point that I despised it."

"And it showed," she couldn't help but cut in. "I gather that since that point your opinion has changed, even if I was – am - still the same person, believe me".

The frankness of his speech had already given her a sort of answer to that remark; so, as if feeling some sudden restraint after her tart reply, he didn't volunteer any further explanation than a simple "Of course".

"Look," she went on, forgetting the emotions she had felt earlier as she listened to his story, and disappointed by the unexpected end of his confidences. "I'm fed up with judgements, expectations and all the rest of it…"

"I do understand", he interrupted, "Please don't worry. As you see, I haven't asked anything about you, and I won't, unless you permit me."

"Well", she resumed her speech, a renewed bitterness in her tone, "you'll forgive me but it's difficult to trust such amiability from someone who spent years accusing me of showing off while searching for the slightest reason to criticize my efforts…"

As soon as her harsh words slipped out, she regretted them, seeing how much his expression had darkened.

"All right," she hastily added. "I shouldn't make the same mistake I'm accusing you of. So perhaps my efforts are no longer underrated, now," she concluded with a calmer tone.

Then, seeing his expression in which resignation and emotion seemed to fight a dangerous battle, she went on.

"And I do appreciate your attempt. Perhaps the time has come for a fresh start…"

Returning her gaze, eventually he nodded and resumed speaking again. "I assure you that it required no effort on my part to come here today".

Acknowledging his honesty, she felt suddenly at a loss for words and, at the same time, with the earnest wish to say the right thing before leaving.

So she held out her hand and, when he took it, with a timid smile she offered: "Friends?"

"Friends," he repeated, and she smiled openly, seeing that not even the tiniest spark of his old irony was visible in his eyes.

Then, before parting, they willingly agreed to see each other again very soon.

X.

Friendship is a very meaningful word but, albeit that he was convinced of his resolution, Severus knew little of the rules of friendship.

And, furthermore, he was still trying to decode his own recent actions, which had been a mystery even to himself.

He hadn't acted with such impulsiveness for a very long time. More, he had quite made a point to himself to not take any more first steps to approach people, and during recent years he had almost succeeded in sticking to that… if he was honest with himself, though, he knew that that distance hadn't been his natural reaction to things, he had had to perfect such behaviour in order to survive the tasks he had to perform, and even so there had been some fateful occasions when his true feelings had emerged with unexpected force…

Well, probably this time was his ultimate chance to decide what he really wanted to pursue, in this second life which he had been gifted… and perhaps the strange tangle of emotions that he had felt on every recent occasion that he had confronted Hermione – and that had left him feeling alive and interested in learning more - was, already in itself, an answer to his wonderings.

It took him several days, thus, to decide the best way to approach her again, and he was even feeling a bit uneasy about the fact that, despite sending him some owls with her news and sudden thoughts, Hermione hadn't proposed a new date, yet.

He was looking, for the umpteenth time, at the parchments in his hands - not really reading them, though, since their content was already very well known to him.

_Dear Severus,_

_I'm remembering with fondness the words with which we parted, hoping that they mean that I'm allowed to call you by your given name, and that since that day everything is well with you._

_Right now __I've been thinking about our meeting recalling your confidences and all the things that I've learned about you, the real you… I feel as if I took great advantage of your offered "question time", and I'm a bit ashamed._

_So be assured that, sooner or later, I won't fail to reciprocate your trust._

_Hermione Granger_

That had been the first of her messages and several had followed, albeit that just one of them, later, had given a hint of such a promised disclosure:

"… _I've suddenly remembered that you witnessed the very moment in which Ron and I left each other – funny how strong memories are centred solely on the main thing that was going on, forgetting all the rest… I wonder what you made of that scene, and I'm feeling like blushing. For now I can only repeat the words that you told me quite recently, about things that aren't always as they might seem…"_

She had never told him any more, though, and he hadn't really expected a written account on that matter… Yes, there were things that couldn't be accomplished by writing.

He went to her office, that evening, hoping that it wasn't one of those days of overexertion in which she exhausted herself by working late into the night… and that he wouldn't be rejected, when he arrived unannounced.

But she was just ready to leave, and seeing him at her door she smiled.

"Dinner?" he asked, unconcealed uncertainty in his tone and in his gaze.

And, in a moment, to her eyes he was no longer her old teacher nor a strangely renewed acquaintance but just a real friend, like those whom she had lost, after her broken engagement… she loosened her hair, while joining him, and putting a hand on his arm she replied with warmth.

"Gladly."

That was the tenth time in which they met, and even if during that evening their talk did not touch on private matters, it seemed to both that something more important than a newly discovered affinity had begun: interest and curiosity had easily given way to the sheer joy of companionship, opening both minds and hearts to even deeper knowledge and affection.

XI.

Given the past that each of them had with relationships, it was unsurprising that, on the eleventh time on which they met, the old fears and insecurities made their way to the surface of their feelings.

The fact that, on that very day, Draco had visited Hermione's office and, with subtle words and not very subtle behaviour, had insinuated into her mind some thoughts along the lines of "Severus doesn't deserve any more strain or delusion" also didn't help matters along.

It was dinner again.

During their earlier date they had derived enjoyment and appreciation from excited exchanges about academic subjects where they found common ground, or from sharing their opinions on trivialities; this time, however, at some point their conversation turned towards more personal matters.

"I met Draco, today" she started lightly. "You were right, I must concede that he is no longer the spoiled brat whom I once knew. "

Then, responding to his amused suggestion that she should continue, she gave a brief account of the young man's enquiries as to the possibility that the Minister might actively give his patronage to their potions, not merely permit them.

"Looking at him I was amazed to realise how much he, too, owes to you… another son of a friend to whom you devoted so much…" she ended, thoughtful.

Her comment had been made with heartfelt admiration but, in a strange twist of fate, rather than strengthen their understanding it suddenly seemed to worsen their mood. The meal served just then by the waiter concealed that uneasiness for a bit and both, unaware of the other, lost themselves in memories and thoughts.

He couldn't help but be reminded, by those words of hers, of all his faults and losses; and she pondered on loyalty and devotion, feeling gloomy at the thought that, at the moment, Harry's occasional calls were the only thing remaining of old-time friendships.

Afterwards it seemed impossible to regain their earlier lightness and confidence, in spite of some awkward, vain attempts that followed.

And, at the end of that night, when they parted, all their earlier wishes seemed to vanish with their goodbye.

XII.

After that, for some time, he wondered about her offer of friendship and about his own feelings. And he finally understood that friendship wasn't exactly what he had been searching for.

To be friends with her seemed to be, at the same time, too much to hope for and too little to wish. She had a whole life ahead of her, no matter that at the moment she seemed to have secluded herself, like a hopeless spinster, in her job. Friendship couldn't be the only path she would follow in her future, he realized…

And he… well, was it really necessary to enumerate all the reasons why believing in the possibility of any kind of relationship with her would be a fool's delusion, the greatest of all?

After all, what had they been to each other, before the recent declarations of interest and friendship?

So he, who for the longest of times had treasured and suffered for an unrequited love, did his best to fend off forthcoming new wounds.

Meanwhile, on a similar wavelength, Hermione couldn't even begin to comprehend that, despite her recent history, she had inadvertently started to open herself to feelings once more.

After the way in which things had ended with Ron, showing how shared history, attraction and wishes could be easily shattered by the reality of being together day after day, she had promised to herself that she would avoid any kind of involvement with anyone else for a very long time.

After all, in spite of their mutual interests or of the unexpected pleasure of spending time together, there was shared history between her and Severus too, and that story included his long and sole devotion to Lily Potter, his coldness and her suspicious distance during school days… and it was true that they had agreed on a fresh start, but their last encounter had showed how that mutual purpose wasn't an easy task.

As more days passed neither of them was able to come out from his own shell of doubts and denial but, at the same time, each of them reached the conclusion that something had to be done to regain some peace and to put an end to the emptiness that, even after so short a connection, each other's absence was provoking.

To know what such a something could be, though, was an entirely different matter.

Their twelfth meeting happened then by chance, on one of the last days of December, in the Apothecary's shop in London; the most important in Britain and the main agent for Snape and Malfoy's company. Snape was just entering the shop, in order to check up on his business, when he spotted Hermione near the Apothecary's counter.

For a few minutes he kept his distance, and watched her buying some potions that he easily recognized, knowing them all too well.

Concerned, he moved a few steps forward and this time she met his gaze.

"Severus" she whispered, blushing.

Forgetful of his job, without even dignifying the clerk with a glance, he joined her, guiding her steps toward a corner of the shop.

"Are you ill?" he asked, looking intently at her purchase. "You could have owled, if you were…"

She smiled, feebly.

"No, I'm not too bad… considering". Then, on impulse, she went on. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You're right, we could have written to each other… it wouldn't have been like our talks, though. I've often remembered them, and missed them".

He looked at her eyes, full of sadness and sincerity when she had spoken, and, throwing away caution and second thoughts, found himself answering.

"It's you… _you_ are the one that I've missed".

Brightened by such words she looked at him intensely and, seeing him blushing, smiled fondly. Then, before emotions and shyness prevailed one more time, she spoke again.

"Have you already got plans for the evening?"

"It's been some time since I've made any kind of plans" he admitted honestly.

"Come, then, and we'll pick up where we left off… catching up on everything we've missed".

Once out of the shop she moved closer to him, and after his assent she Apparated them both to her flat.

"I've continued to think, you know, about that first long talk in which you revealed so many things to me, and I haven't forgot my promise to be equally open…" she started, as soon as they were inside.

But he interrupted her words, with some haste.

"Don't… please, don't say any more about it. There's no rush, and it doesn't really matter, now".

In front of Hermione, and of her open trust, he felt that he actually meant it. That explanation, and not just that one, didn't matter anymore, ever, and not just at the present moment.

Smiling, hesitantly, she nodded, as if sensing the truth behind his words. There would be time enough to share the troubles of her past and to be completely understood by him, if she so chose and at a time of her own choosing, without pressure.

She realized, in fact, that his willingness to take her on trust, unexplained, had been a beautiful gift and she couldn't afford to spoil it by going on with her tale. To do so would be worse than any previous failure in her life to date. And, finally, she felt as if the weight of the past and of its sad memories had been lifted from her, while accepting and sharing his disclosure.

So, bit by bit, updating each other as to the latest news, they accomplished what her earlier suggestion had implied, while all the doubts that had afflicted them for many days vanished, like a bad dream.

"I should go" he finally admonished her, when it was long since past the time for leaving. She didn't seem pleased at those words.

"It's late, you need to sleep. And contrary to popular belief I need it too… I'm not getting any younger, Hermione" he teased.

"Well, so it would be wise to not waste any more time, wouldn't it?" she answered pointedly, taking the hint and the challenge, while walking him to the door.

"Indeed" he whispered, without any more trace of teasing in his tone, without moving an inch from the threshold. Their gazes locked, and when she drew him closer to kiss him good night he encircled her in his arms, unable to let her go.

Their parting, when it happened, was completely different from the last one: their longing bared without any qualms, both knew that something most precious had been reached, and that, from now on, fortuitous chances and pondered decisions wouldn't be necessary anymore.

Indeed, even though they would never forget those first twelve steps that had led them to really see each other and to realize what such knowledge meant, the countless meetings which followed ran together until they were no longer so clearly distinguished in their memories like those first ones, having been since that moment the essential part of every day in both of their lives.


End file.
